The first moment after
by Hana Dawn
Summary: The Shaman Fight was long over. Things kept moving on through time. Still, as all living things must do one day, Yoh passed away. And someone was ready to welcome him on the other side. Oneshot.


**The first moment after**

**by Hana Dawn**

* * *

><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> Shaman King belongs to a Hiroyuki Takei y a Shounen Jump®. I do not intend to take profit from it, nor own it, nor sell it. Still, that does NOT mean that the fanfiction is public property. I wrote it, so no one else take credit for it.

August 2011.

* * *

><p>He woke up with the feeling he'd never left that place, so it wasn't quite the shock. Instead of years, it seemed like he'd merely dozed off for a while. He yawned, stretched his arms, and scratched his tummy, still lying on the floor. Except that there was no floor, and he had noticed just then.<p>

Caught off guard, he freaked out a little by the notion of emptiness that surrounded him as far as the eye could see, and stood up, mostly floating in mid-air. He knew that wasn't normal, and that that place was not where he had fallen asleep. Also, he realized why he felt like he had always been there.

"Hello."

He quickly turned to the voice behind him. But, as he stared into his eyes, he was unsure whether to feel surprised, angry, sad, eased, or just plain happy.

The other one paused, maybe restraining part of his speech before it came out.

"... It's been a while."

It would be real sappy to think that, maybe, he felt that way because part of him truly had never left, so he tried to rephrase it: maybe it was because the rest of his life hadn't been that long. Or that far. You know, _considering_.

Because he knew what this place was. He smiled a bit, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes lowered. Then, he closed his eyelids, letting out a small sigh. He understood, without denying his circumstances, without any explanation required.

Still, he couldn't help to feel a nudge in his chest. He needed to sit, so he looked down, to the exact same void that surrounded them, trying to figure out a way to do so. The older one noticed it.

"You can sit if you want to. This place remains the same as how I told you it was before: if you believe in it, it will appear."

He looked at his confident, and kind of haughty smile, and allowed it to convince him. So he imagined the same ground on which he woke up on and it appeared within his hand's reach. He smiled again and sat, crossing his legs, and resting his arms over them.

They both stayed there, silently, immerse in their own thoughts.

When Yoh finally decided to speak, he leaned forward and intertwined his fingers, ready to have a long talk.

"I'm gonna ask you stuff now."

"I know", replied the one who still stood on his feet, with the same close-to-mocking tone. Yoh laughed internally, thinking how he seemed like he hadn't changed that much.

"... Are you sure this was the right time to take me- I mean, _bring_ me?"

Hao tarried away his answer, as if he was waiting for Yoh to take in his own question.

"Yes, I am sure."

His fingers cringed as he heard him, but they loosened up swiftly.

"What'll happen to Anna? Will she be alright? Will she get the easy life I promised her...?"

Once again, Hao looked into Yoh's eyes and held his answer for a moment.

"Yes, she will be fine."

This time, Yoh didn't get stressed. In fact, he seemed deeply relieved, and almost grateful. So his next question came up fast.

"What about Hana?"

Hao waited to give his answer a bit longer this time around, and stared back at his twin. Long enough for him to realise he was judging him. Yoh got taken aback for an instant, and then diverted his eyes again, staggering; he knew the reasons behind that look, so he wasn't about to fight it.

He knew he would be judged and blamed. But, as everything in his life, he took that decision because, at the time, he had to take it. All the other choices were worse; maybe not for him, but to others. And he had to do what was best for everyone, because that's how his heart works. He knew, and he was ready to live with that hurt and face the consequences.

All he hoped was for Hana to understand him someday; he didn't ask for forgiveness, only for comprehension. So he gripped his fists, took a deep breath, and lifted his head, ready for judgment.

Surprisingly, Hao just spoke yet again with the same voice.

"Yes, he will be fine, as well."

Yoh waited for his punishment, but... Hao didn't do anything else.

Was that... all? That was his judgment? Only suspense and a stare?

He looked up at Hao, obviously shocked, but all he received was the same look he had been wearing from the beginning.

What if... Hao knew how much he had beaten himself up for it every day of his life? What if the damage he had done was on its way to be mended? What if his self punishment had been enough and his sin was already cleansed? The questions piled up, and Yoh didn't know with which one to start.

"H-Hao... I-"

"He will be fine." Hao interrupted him, marking every word with a slower pace and a deeper voice, putting an end to that question.

Yoh just froze, trying to digest what Hao's answer meant. Cutting him off as he was about to destroy himself with words that could have perfectly been daggers made all those thoughts collapse, scatter, and... eventually dissolve.

Maybe what he meant was that what he did or didn't do to Hana in the past didn't matter anymore. Maybe now his faults would stop being a hazard. Or they were never a hazard, to begin with. Maybe, now, all of that would disappear, just like his doubts did, and he would truly be "fine".

Or maybe, he was just trying to calm him down. One way or another, it was working.

Upon becoming aware of both possibilities, Yoh sighed and smiled to himself. If there was one thing for certain, it was that, no matter what Hao meant, he was no longer able to change anything, and he had to keep it in mind. The only thing he could do was to accept it for how it was. And, thankfully, Hao guaranteed they would be okay, and there was no higher authority to go around asking things on that subject more than him.

Then... he scratched the back of his head, and was able to let it go, humbly. It wasn't defeat; the time had solely run out. Yet, he eagerly wished for Hao's words to remain true for as long as they could.

He stayed silent a while longer, until his fingers ran across one of the many scars in his neck. He'd be lying if he said he remembered where and when he got each one, mainly because they all came from the same place: a battle. He stopped counting them after he fought Silva for the first time; some started to appear all of a sudden whenever he wasn't watching, and others did the exact opposite, until, one day, he got mixed up, and, from there on, he forgot to keep track.

But he didn't mind, because he wasn't the only one who had scars. Ren had more on him when they first met than he had on the last count he did on himself. Horohoro amazed him because, even after having his legs exposed all the time, he had more scars on his back and arms, instead. One time, Chocolove got cut on his nose, and it was hilarious. Lyserg hid most of his scars. Ryuu had his own lot before meeting him, and he got beat up constantly, so there were no surprises there. Faust, well, Yoh tried to focus more on his mood than on his looks. Even Manta got a few ones on him.

Every time he thought about them, his chest felt warm and a little tight. No matter how longer and longer ago it became, and how hard and terrible it also had been, the Shaman Fight would always be the greatest time of his life, because he had the chance to get scarred right next to a friend. And they would never leave his heart.

Thus, he knew what to ask next.

"Then... should I worry about my friends?"

Hao's temple seemed upset for a second, his eyebrow notoriously twitching.

"You shouldn't worry."

Hao's answer was blunt this time. In fact, he had been emphasizing that point quite a lot, from the start, implicitly. _You shouldn't worry at all. About anything. Anymore._

He knew already. He could never do anything else. Besides, he also knew his friends _would_ be fine on their own. They rarely got together nowadays, and they didn't need his constant protection to be okay.

He'd still miss them, though.

Hao cleared his throat to get Yoh's attention back, but he wasn't expecting to clash with the sweetest longing in his eyes, causing him to flinch and divert his own gaze, for a change. Yoh didn't get it, of course, and found Hao's reaction pretty weird, but just as funny.

Just then, Yoh figured that, so far, Hao had been kind to him, and maybe way too kind. He had been ready for his witty remarks that bordered the plain offensive from the beginning, but they never seemed to come. He was getting straight-forward truths, but they seemed to lack the usual spice. So, he had to wonder.

"Why are you being like this?"

Hao talked back in a regular pace, no longer stretching Yoh's questions.

"Like what?"

"You know, nice?"

Hao simply smirked, shaking his head a little.

"Because I know you."

That response didn't seem like enough firstly, but, as it sank in, Yoh understood what Hao had really said.

Hao said he knew him enough to know that the only way Yoh would accept his fate was to be gentle as he established it. Because he knew that every time someone forced him into anything, he'd think of something else for him, something better, and he would try to escape it, defeat it, conquer it. If Hao pushed it onto him, Yoh would reject it. Yes, it meant extra work, but... Hao couldn't let Yoh wander off and become attached to something he no longer had. Hao couldn't let Yoh become a lost soul. He wouldn't. So he was going out of his way to make sure Yoh would be okay.

Yoh realised that it all sounded really corny, but, the more he thought about it, the more sense it turned out to have. He tried to look for any sort of confirmation in his twin, his own face covered in concern. Hao looked at him and again flinched a bit, now notoriously troubled. Once more, Yoh found it funny as heck, and couldn't help to snort.

"Hehehe... Thanks. You're making me blush."

"Shut up."

Yoh clearly laughed now, to what Hao, almost pouting, tried to respond by threatening him, taking a step forward. Didn't work.

As soon as Yoh calmed down, he asked a totally random and frank question with a smile on his face.

"So, how're you doing?"

Hao raised a brow almost instantly. Yoh kept smiling, evidently more relaxed, and leaned back, still sitting down. Hao saw that, and sighed, rolling his eyes in a resigned attitude. He crossed his arms, making his long sleeves flop, and struggled with his choice of words once again.

"... I got a cat."

"R-really? That's great!" Yoh literally jumped out of his invisible seat, with shining eyes and everything. Hao retraced his last step, now backwards.

"I said, shut up." Hao mumbled, slightly flustered.

Yoh started making cute noises and gestures, picturing cats of all sizes, all over the place. Hao couldn't take it and hit his forehead with his palm, resisting the urge to slap the sense out of him. Still, he allowed him to goof around a bit longer.

"It's my turn to ask you something, now."

When he stopped laughing, Hao loosened his own arms and got serious, expecting him to catch up.

"Are you ready?"

Yoh's smile remained, but he toned it down. He had to think about his response for a while. Because, to be completely honest, he wasn't sure.

"Yeah... but, there's a part of me that doesn't want me to be."

They stared at each other until Yoh felt another nudge, stronger than the first one, and gazed down, trying to make it disappear. It was proving to be hard, when, out of the blue, a hand came into sight in front of his face: Yoh looked up and met Hao, now standing right next to him, stretching his hand with a more than unusual kindness.

"Wh..."

Hao shook his hand to shush him, stressing his offer, still wearing a serious face.

Yoh stared at his hand until that shock outgrew the pain in his chest. He really was willing to do anything to help him through this. His face reflected how moved he was for it, and... he decided to take it.

He swallowed up, loosened his left fist, and breathed in. He closed his eyes for a moment, and everything slowed down as his mind rushed through his whole life, accenting a few moments; his decision to become Shaman King, every first meeting, everyone's first laugh together, the first time Amidamaru and him did an Oversoul, the Patch's story, his decision to save Hao, his promises, his journey through hell, absolute despair, coming back once again, choosing to let his hair grow, Hana's birth, the new journey, a broken leg, Hana's cold, and the last news he had heard that day.

He opened his eyes again, and all he chose to hold on to were their smiles, all of them. So he wore one himself, lifted his left hand, and took Hao's. Surprisingly, he smiled back.

Hao pulled him up, Yoh being more than ready to complain about that old, once broken, leg. But it felt weird. More than weird. He felt... smaller.

He took a look down and jumped on his place, almost screaming. He was back to his teen years, with his track suit and everything.

"WHA- HOW- HOW DID- WHEN DID-"

Hao gripped his hand tighter; he hadn't let go. And, judging by his mischievous grin, he wasn't going to, any time soon.

Yoh got really nervous and confused, but it all got replaced by sheer panic when Hao straightened his right arm, gripped his fist, and, in between lights and flames, materialized his Spirit of Fire sword. Hao stared at Yoh's expression and bit his lip, his grin growing larger.

Yoh immediately started cursing himself for falling into his smooshy trap, and tried to let go, but Hao's grip wouldn't give in. He tried to think of many ways to break it, until it hit him: he was trying to push himself with his feet doing friction over the ground, but, was there any ground to begin with?

That was it. Just as Hao brought that Spirit that couldn't really be brought, and just as they were standing on a floor that couldn't really be there, he could pull the same trick he did last time. So he stopped resisting, lifted his own right arm to his side, and called forth his memories. How the grip felt, how heavy the weapon was, how much furyoku the oversoul spent, how did it feel to be one mind with Amidamaru... and he summoned his own Spirit of Sword.

Wasn't going to lie about that, either; it felt pretty good.

As he was about to celebrate, Hao didn't waste any more time and swung his sword towards his face. Yoh apparently had gotten his old reflexes back, too, so he took a step back and striked Hao's sword before it hit him. The impact forced them both to let go of their hands' grip and jump back, each taking their own guard stances and staring at the other as soon as they landed.

Yoh took a brief moment to see his sword. He hadn't seen Harusame in so long, and this whole feeling was just like being with the real Amidamaru again.

Just then, through the corner of his eye, he caught Hao smiling again, the same way he smiled when he grabbed his hand. And that only made him frown. Was he up to something again? Or was he still trying to help him...? He couldn't dare to answer that himself, so, once more, he had to ask.

"Hao...?"

With that, as if it had been a cue, Hao's smile turned into a smirk.

"I want to play."

His response was so straightforward that Yoh could tell he was being honest. Which only confused him more. And he could bet Hao found that amusing, too.

In fact, Yoh considered that, maybe, Hao was still trying to help. But now in a way he could be entertained, as well. And, as soon as he realized it, he thought that that was more like him. His smile was oddly contagious, and he couldn't help to grin along with him.

"Sure. It's not like I have any rush to get there, do I?"

Hao nodded and jolted his sword, spinning it around to taunt him back. He_ was _giving him time to undo that last nudge. After all, he had to fully convince himself, one more time, that everything would be fine, except that, now, they would be even if he wasn't there to make sure.

Besides, why not? After what he had been doing for him, why should he deny him a little sparring, right?

"Here I go!"

They smiled once again and charged against each other. They literally had no time to lose.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

There's not much to add, really. For all I know, Yoh could have died before the Flowers special, or maybe in his 30's, or 40's, or even 80's. He could have died in his sleep, on an accident, gotten killed; that's not the point. My intention wasn't to focus on how/when he died, but on what would happen to his soul afterwards.

I recently got into RPing, and I'm blaming it for giving me this idea. It's my third (?) english fanfiction. I had a lot less trouble with it than the previous one.

As always, every review, fav, and whatever you decide to show interest/likeness/not-so-much/hate ( D: ) is truly appreciated and loved. I'd really like to know what you think about it, if you liked it, what did you like, and what did you not like or found a tad off (and why!) as well.

Thank you for reading, have a nice day! :D


End file.
